Bloodlust

Dark, night sky filled with clouds that covered the stars. It had saddened Clark to think that his first mission was on such a dark night. Even the stars hid in fear as he was soon to see the ferocity of a vampire clinging to life. It was a dark thought, that matched with his task, the murder of the first of the fourteen vampires he was to kill. He donned nothing more than a black t-shirt, dark, blue jeans, shoes, and his dog tag. He had recently found great displeasure in wearing the dog tag as it's engraving, "Bloodlust", only helped to remind him of his detachment from the human world. It was a depressing thought, and to rid the thoughts from his mind he began his task.

He was standing in front of an abandon building. It was a former factory which, having never been torn down, remained standing, seemingly, in the middle of nowhere. Although, the building seemed uninhabited it was obvious that there were people inside, as several guards walked around the building periodically. Clark ran toward a guard, with vampiric speed, and quickly knocked him out. Then, using his vampire hearing, gained a general understanding of the guards positions around the building. He turned a corner around the building to find a guard, surprised at his appearance fire a bullet at Clark. Clark simply ran forward, once more with vampiric speed, and snap the mans neck. Instantly, the men fell down to the ground, limp and dead. Clark felt unbelievable pain in his chest as he noticed the bullet was made of silver. He quickly pulled it out of his body, throwing it on the ground like it was a disgusting creature.

Clark continue forward, easily killing several more guards before making his way into the building. Instantly, something felt wrong to Clark. He felt sluggish, even though he was walking normal, somehow he felt as if he had lost a part of him. "Silver dust" Clark followed the noise to a person standing at the top of a set of stairs. "Doesn't have quite enough density to actually harm you, but it's still enough to get rid of that tricky speed you vampires have." The room was dimly lit and in this light it was hard to distinguish what the person was wearing. "What's your name?" The person's voice was highly masculine, and his tone implied he had control over the circumstances. Clark answered "Bloodlust" then pulled out his blade from his back. It felt light and fitted to his hand, but it still brought back dark memories.

"I appreciate the effort, but it's pointless. The minute you entered this building your destiny was set. Only one vampire is allowed in this building, and that person..." The man paused, uncertain what to say. Clark answered for him "needs to die." Clark tightened his grip on the sword, realizing that this was not going to be an easy battle. The man made the first move, as Clark easily dodged the bullet aimed at his head. However, several more streams of silver glided past Clark as he made his way toward the man. The man dropped his gun, finding it useless, and raised his sword. Clark jumped ten feet over the stairs landing in front of the man. Immediately, the man made a side stroke for Clark's head. Clark parried, shuddering slightly at the sound of steel on steel, and brought his blade in an upward fashion as he stood. The man stepped back, kicking Clark in the leg, and slamming the butt of his sword into Clark's neck. Clark kneeled in pain and the man brought his sword down, quickly.

Clark rolled forward as the blade rushed past him. His weight was placed completely on his hands, and using his strength he pushed against the floor to throw himself back. He flipped in the air and landed on the man's blade. Clark quickly darted his sword forward, cutting the man in his arm. The movements came easy, as the memories of the past controlled Clark's every action. He grabbed the man's sword arm with his left hand and brought the butt of his sword into the man's chest, primarily the diaphragm. The man dropped the sword and stumbled back, but he was crafty. He pulled a throwing knife from his pocket and quickly flicked it. Clark, lost in his memories, instinctively blocked the knife with his sword. The man had closed the distance between them in that short moment, and had gripped onto Clark's sword with one hand. The smell of blood filled the air, and to Clark it was tantalizing. He filled his nose with the beauty of the aroma. Then the man shoved his knee into Clark's stomach. The man let go of the blade and punched Clark with his bloodied hand. Clark dropped his sword and was thrown back against the wall. The man pulled out a second gun, cunningly hidden, and pulled the trigger. Without any thought at all, the memories returned.

A lonely day, out with his brother, training. Steel on steel, a once melodic sound, turned dark and gloomy. Tears streamed down both brother's faces, and the world to them was a watery silhouette of it's true form.

"No!"

Clark opened his eyes. His thoughts were rearranged up to that point, but he had no reason to revisit his past. The memories inside his head were something that tended to be forgotten, and needed to stay forgotten. At least, that is what Clark continued to tell himself as his heart began racing, and his body began to shudder. He was afraid of the memories, and what they reminded him of. His head began to swirl and thoughts began to mix into one another. It only took the sudden sound of thunder, during the clear day, to make him realize he was having an attack. He stood up realizing his anxiety was getting to him, and in this moment he heard words off in the distance. He focused, desperate to find something to distract himself, and rid his mind of the memories. The sounds started out as mumbles and whispers, but then his heart slowed down, his body stopped shuddering, and the fear left his mind.

"There's no need. He's a good guy and he hasn't hurt anyone yet." The voice sounded like Genna's.

"Don't give a damn. We're doing our things under Crimson's orders."

The voice was deeper and it seemed as if the man had some previous contempt for Genna. Suddenly, Clark turned behind him and noticed a man leaning against the wall near him. He pulled out a box of cigarettes and pulled out a lighter. He ignited the lighter and lit a cigarette, and as he did this, his blood red eyes looked toward Clark. "Would you like a smoke." He chuckled, and somehow it seemed more sinister than friendly. "Looks like just about smoked yours away." Clark took notice of his cigarette. It was, as the man had said, completely down to the stub. He spit it out, and reached for the cigarette with a smile. "Thank you" he replied. His fingers held the cigarette, expertly, and placed the cigarette between Clark's lips. "Here, light it." The man held out his lighter, but the minute Clark leaned forward to place his cigarette into the flame, the man struck out with his other hand.

The memories returned quickly. The muscle memory thoroughly embedded in him of past fights. He sidestepped quickly, bringing his elbow straight into the man's chin. He dropped the lighter and backed away in pain. He suddenly pulled a gun out, but the memories had already took hold. Without thinking Clark adjusted moving quickly to the side as a bullet soared past. He pushed the man against a wall, and smashed his hand in order to get him to drop the gun. The memories pushed him on, causing him to slam his fist into the man's head. Over, and over, and over again he punched as the memories continued to nag him. Blood was pouring out of the man's head in large amounts, and after a while Clark's vampiric strength caused the man's skull to cave in on itself.

Suddenly, Clark was grabbed by the neck from behind and thrown into the wall in front of him, hard. The brick wall cracked under the enormous amount of force placed upon it. Clark stood up and, once more without thought, attacked his adversary. The man blocked the punch with his left hand and threw a jab with his right. Clark caught the fist, held on to the wrist, and brought his elbow down on the man's arm. A loud crunch was heard as the bone snapped. The man ignored the pain expertly, immediately retaliating with his other fist. However, the memories pushed Clark on. Clark, still holding on to the man's wrist, brought his other, bone-breaking arm across to push the man's arm sideways. The punch, intended for Clark's face, missed causing the man to lose his balance. Clark let go of the man's wrist and grabbed his head, using his other hand to demolish his face. The memories took hold, and Clark was lost in it's grip. He grabbed the man's neck and raised him up. The man was bleeding, and was no longer resisting as he was defeated and tired. Clark threw him against the wall, cracking the bricks, and leaving the man's blood stained on the wall. He quickly finished the man by quickly throwing him, face first, into the wall in the other side. He threw him with such force that his head went through the wall. The man's body grew limp, but Clark knew that both of his opponents were vampires, and that they would eventually recover from their injuries. Clark turned, exhausted, in order to pick up the gun on the ground.

A shot rang out from right behind Clark. Clark slowly raised his hand to his chest, finding, to his dismay, that a bullet had passed right through his right lung. Clark fell on his knees as the pain took hold, wiping the memories away. "Sorry mate, guess I have a bit o' trouble tellin which side is left or right." The man's accent was Australian, but Clark didn't turn to face him as he was still trying to recover. "No worries. I'll just aim for your head this time." Clark felt the cold metal placed on the back of his head, and suddenly, the memories burst back into his head.

The cold feeling of metal on the back of his head. Blood was pouring, profusely from his shoulder. The rain washed it away, slowly, taking it's time as the water flowed over every cut draining the horror away from his body. Swords laid in the mud, shattered, as they had served it's purpose. Clark was afraid, but he knew what to do. His brother uttered words, words that stung deeper than any sword could cut. His brother said...

The sound of thunder snaps Clark back to reality. "Any last words, mate. This would be the best time to say them." Clark's heart was beating fast, and he couldn't help but cry as he realized what he had to do. With tears streaming down his face Clark shut out the memories, as he already knew what he had to do. He quickly twisted his body around, using his arm to once more push his enemy's arm to the side. The bullet was fired, but it missed it's target. Clark grabbed the man's head with both arms and slammed it into his knee. The man stumbled back in both surprise and pain. Clark ripped the gun out of the man's hand and, with tears streaming down his face, pulled the trigger. The man's fell to the ground limp and dead. His blood poured out of his head, slowly pooling under the dead man's skull. Clark turned around and fired at the man with his head stuck in the wall. Suddenly, the final vampire awoke from his lethal slumber, healed, and looked at Clark.

Quickly, Clark fired, but the man sidestepped the bullet with vampiric speed. He then rushed Clark, dodging several shots, and grabbed is arm. The man followed through with an elbow to Clark's face, but Clark held on to the gun. The man and Clark struggled for the gun as it was raised in the air, pointed at the heavens as if they planned to shoot god. Clark kicked out at the man, causing him to bend forward, but he didn't let go. However, Clark managed to point the gun forward, and when the man raised his head, Clark fired. Instantly, the man dropped to the ground, dead.

Clark stood there, staring at the work he had done. Most of his wounds had closed up by now, and his tears were all but memories. "Ten left" Clark whispered. A laugh echoed in the ally. Clark turned to the voice only to find another man with blood red eyes. "I'm glad you think we're pure bloods, but to be honest if that were the case you would be dead by now." The man was holding a machine gun in his hands. Clark turned to the other exit only to find three more vampires holding similar weapons. He turned back at the man. "Let's see you dodge a hundred bullets coming at you." They opened fire, and Clark, instinctively, jumped as high as he could manage. He flew past three stories, but it wasn't enough and he hit the wall, quickly falling. Without thinking, Clark kicked against the walls, soaring over the neighboring building and landing with a painful thud on the concrete roof. He noticed the fingers of the other vampires desperately clinging to the edge, attempting to make their way up and over the wall. Clark turned and ran, jumping from building to building as the vampires chased after him. He stopped suddenly as he found that an intersection was up ahead. "I just hope I can make this" Clark roared as he jumped as high as he could. He soared through the air, but he began to descend before he had even made it to the roof. He fell straight through a window, landing on his legs. A large crack was heard as his legs broke under pressure. It began to heal quickly, but when he looked out the window he saw the vampires quickly approaching.

Clark looked around, desperate to find his gun. He found it next to a door several inches away. He began crawling toward it, slowly dragging his crippled body across the floor. He turned back, watching as the vampires came closer.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?"

Clark looked back to find a lady holding his silver gun. Fear flickered behind her eyes, but the intent to kill was hidden behind her eyes as well. "Ma'me, there is no reason to worry, but I need that gun." The lady ignored him and looked toward the window yelling out "Who are they?" Clark looked back and realized that one of the vampires was attempting the jump. "Shoot them! Fire or we're both dead!" The vampire jumped and the lady fired at him. All shots were missed as she was not used to using a gun, and the vampire continued his flight through the air. His head smashed into the wall above the window, and his body fell to the ground. A series of gasps emanated from outside. Clark's leg suddenly snapped back together, as he was finally fully healed. He stood up and quickly grabbed the lady's arm, moving it so the gun was aimed at the floor. She fired at the ground, accidentally. "Let go! I'm trying to help!" Clark screeched. The lady sobbed in return, tears streaming down her face with ease. Her eyes looked up at his, watery and fearful, pleading for her life to be spared. Clark's memories rushed back into his head.

Tears flowing freely from a lady's face. Clark sat next to her, arm around her, emotionless. "Try to calm yourself. I'm trying to help you." The woman stood up and in anger turned her sad, red eyes upon him. "You killed him! You killed my son! You killed him!" Clark moved forward, holding her hands, and replied "Mom! Stop this! He tried to kill me, Mom! What was I supposed to do?" She cried harder, shaking furiously. "I'm still your son, Mom. I'm still your son." The lady's eyes changed from fear to anger, as the gun dropped out of both of their hands. "You are not my son!" The lady began furiously hitting him. "Calm down! I don't want to hurt you!" Clark yelled, but once more the memories invaded. "You're a monster! A monster!" Fists slammed into Clark, as her rage grew. "I didn't mother a monster! You're a monster!" Clark yelled at the lady "Mom!" The lady continued striking him. Clark looked at the window and realized another vampire was jumping. "I am not your mother" The memories stung him and with it he repeated past actions. "Enough!"

"Enough!" He punched the lady and the very sound of her neck snapping resembled that of thunder to Clark. He stood back, surprised, at what he had just done. A thump sound was heard from the window, and Clark turned to find hands hanging on to the window edge. Clark turned and ran toward another room, opening the door, and promptly slamming it behind him. "Who are you?" Clark slowly turned toward the sound and found a little girl. The girl had fiery red hair and dark brown eyes. "Where's mommy?" Clark felt tears escape confinement in his eyes, but still he remained stoic. The girl was young, maybe three or four years old, and it haunted Clark. "What's your name?" Clark responded. The girl was quick to answer, ignorant of what was going on around her. "My name is Alisha Griffin. Nice to meet you. What's your name?" The response sounded some what rehearsed, but it didn't matter as Clark replied in monotone "Bloodlust." The girl giggled "That's a silly name." Clark laughed back and replied "Yeah." He looked at the girl, then he took his earpiece out of his ear and threw it on the ground. "My name is Clark, and..." He droned off looking at the girl, tears once more rushing away from his eyes. "I hope you can forgive me one day."

The door slammed open, hitting Clark in the back. Clark quickly turned punching the unsuspecting vampire in the face. He rushed toward the window in the room. He jumped out, landing on the roof of the smaller building outside. He noticed there was a door at the top of the roof. He ran toward it and kicked the door pen to reveal a staircase. "Mommy!" the sobbing screams of the young girl echoed in his ears. He continued on, ignoring the shrieks and screams. He made his way down the stairs, opening the first door he saw. The door revealed a hallway, of which, held an elevator at it's end. He pushed the button and waited for the elevator to rise. Clark could hear footsteps coming down the stairs. The lights flickered at the top of the elevator, eleven, twelve. A vampire made it into his hallway, and the elevator opened. Clark backed up into the elevator hitting the button labeled one. The vampire stood still, quickly pulling out a handgun, and fired. Clark dodged the first two bullets then the doors closed blocking the rest of them. Clark laughed "Lucky." He looked down at the buttons, noticing that he was on the thirteenth floor. "Really lucky." Clark chuckled. The elevator began it's decent, but then suddenly stopped early on the twelfth floor. The doors opened to reveal Genna and two other vampires next to her. Clark's expression changed as he stated sarcastically "Unbelievably lucky."